


Take Care

by RissiUniverse



Series: From Despair to Hope [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (implicit loss of limb), Bittersweet Ending, Crying, Deals, Dream is still new, Gen, Light Angst, Loss of Limbs, Lots of Crying, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Mistakes, Nightmare and Passive are different, Nightmare does what he can to get what he wants, Nightmare loses an arm, Pancakes, Passive is called Despair, Somewhat, Tentacles, but he grows it back, he's trying his best, mention of kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25869232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RissiUniverse/pseuds/RissiUniverse
Summary: Up until now, Dream wasn’t aware of the fact that Nightmare and Despair (Passive) are two separate people. Mistakes are made.
Relationships: Dream & Nightmare, Dreammare (platonic), Nightcest (implied)
Series: From Despair to Hope [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803784
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	Take Care

In the kitchen, Nightmare was making breakfast for Despair. He didn’t bake or cook much, mostly getting the Papyri or the maids to do it for him. This time, he just felt in the mood to make it himself. Last night, Despair openly agreed to have some fun, and actually suggested it on his own… It was making Nightmare unexpectedly happy. Or… not happy, no—energized, really. Not happy. Wrong word. 

Nightmare was smiling as he added syrup to the pancakes, knowing exactly how Despair liked his pancakes. He figured it out on his own with the help of communication. The majority of the time, he sent a Shadow Papyrus to do the work for him and he would claim the credit of perfectly baked pancakes, but occasionally he did make them on his own. Perhaps he even did a better job at it than the Shadow Papyrus. He wasn’t sure, though, since Despair didn’t voice if there was much of a difference. He enjoyed the pancakes all the same. 

After he finished up the syrup, he put it back in the cabinet where it belonged, humming as he did so. He picked up the plate with one of his hands and stuffed his other hand into his jacket pocket, beginning to move out of the kitchen back to the throne room. Despair would be around there somewhere, if not still on the throne, and he should be able to find him with ease. 

  
  


As Nightmare got close to the throne room, just a couple turns away, he heard something. Not a crash, but something close to it. It sounded like a sword being thrown against the wall. At first, he felt annoyance fill him, rolling his only-showing pupil at the thought that his underlings were fighting with each other in the throne room of all places… It was most likely Killer and Cross since Cross was the one he left with Despair to watch, and the person capable of openly starting a fight with Cross in the throne room was Killer since he was the only one that truly got on Cross’s nerves. That was before he realized he sensed an all-too-familiar positive energy. Not just any positive energy, no, it wasn’t created solely by feelings; it was Dream. He was in the castle. In the throne room. _Where Despair was_. 

With this news, the corruption felt realization struck him—down to his very core, his eye widening and his pupil narrowing as he gripped the plate. He felt the plate shaking as he clutched it. He growled, racing forward, holding the plate with both hands. He would set down the plate somewhere in the throne. If he lost the food, he would simply remake it. Nightmare threw himself around the corner, tentacles poised and ready to fight. Immediately, he saw the intruder, along with the monochrome skeleton fighting him—Dream and Cross. Nightmare couldn’t immediately see Despair anywhere in the room, but he knew he would have seen Dream. It was all going to crash and burn. All he had worked to achieve would fail. 

Nightmare hissed loudly, his mouth opening. He gritted his teeth. He gained the attention of the two who were fighting, the two of them temporarily halting. 

A giant blade that obviously belonged to Cross was laying on the floor close to the wall, and based on the light scratches on the wall, it was clear to Nightmare the sword had been thrown against it, Dream being the cause of this. It appeared that Cross was about to reach down to get it, still facing Dream, his back towards Nightmare, looking back to see who had entered. He still appeared stoic. Actually, he might have calmed down with the relief his boss was here to help. Dream looked determined, eyebrows furrowed as he stared Nightmare down, not yet breaking eye contact. He noted that he was wearing the same outfit as before, the one that wasn’t from him finally breaking out of the stone after a decade. Nightmare noticed that Dream was getting better and better at fighting, too. It was almost astonishing to Nightmare, the fact that Dream had made it past the castle’s gates and so far into the castle to reach the throne. Why had he come here? To fight Nightmare in his castle? Did he really think he would catch Nightmare off-guard? 

Dream was getting more and more stable, Nightmare could tell, over the years. In fact, he seemed like a different person, now. He had improved. He was wiser and definitely more humble; less fragile. That wouldn’t change anything, though. He wasn’t going to take Despair away from Nightmare and force Nightmare to risk his life to let Despair go. He had to make sure Despair was safe within his castle. He couldn’t trust Dream. Dream barely knew how to take care of himself, let alone other people. Nightmare knew what he was doing. 

  
  


Finally, Dream broke eye contact, slipping under Cross and kicking the knife far behind him, the knife sliding across the throne room’s floor close to the carpet. Nightmare scowled at him, his tentacles thrashing behind him as he stepped towards Dream, a tentacle twitching as he prepared to strike him with it. 

Cross had moved for his knife. Throwing a tentacle at Dream, which he dodged, moving away from the wall, he snarled to Cross, “Where is _it?_ ” 

Cross lifted his knife from the ground, standing to face the two, glancing at Dream but then focusing on Nightmare. Despite his stoic expression, Nightmare could see and feel him waver, a little confused by the question. “What?” 

Nightmare snapped at him, “You know what I’m talking about. Where is _it?_ _It_ was in here. Now _it isn’t_. Where is _it_.” Cross’s sockets widened in just the slightest, you would have missed it if you weren’t watching for it. Nightmare focused on Dream completely for a moment, throwing another tentacle. Dream summoned a staff, blocking the tentacle as he whirled it between his fingers, advancing towards Nightmare. Moving closer to him would be a mistake, he thought. “Help me out here,” he snarled. 

Obediently, Cross threw himself at Dream, aiming to strike down his knife. Dream flinched, moving aside, farther from Nightmare. Cross whipped around. “He left, boss,” he stated, the title slipping from his mouth casually, not looking at Nightmare, his eyebrows still furrowed as he did a sideways swipe with his knife at Dream. Dream held it with his staff, struggling to keep his place against Cross. “I put _it_ away as soon as I thought I sensed Dream approaching. It was too late to call for help. He was already too close,” Cross explained, going along with the story, not using he/him pronouns and making it sound like Despair was an object, minus the first slip-up. It should be fine. Good, Dream wouldn’t suspect they were hiding an entire person from him. Hopefully. Nightmare didn’t suspect Dream was smart enough to figure that out, especially during a fight. 

“Good job,” Nightmare responded. He two tendrils at Dream as he fought against Cross for ground. Dream’s yellow eyelights flicked to Nightmare briefly, accidentally letting his guard down, allowing Cross to push him just a bit further. Dream surrendered his position, letting go and quickly trying his hardest to scramble backward, but the left tentacle managed to grab around Dream, holding one of his arms against his body. He dropped his staff as he lifted him above the ground, squeezing him for good measure, drawing the positive guardian close. 

“Well, well, well, Dream… Wasn’t expecting such a pleasant visit,” Nightmare greeted casually. His grin tightened, eyebrow lowering. “It’s very _rude_ ,” he continued, squeezing tighter around Dream, “to come into someone’s castle without knocking.” 

Dream squirmed at first, trying to get out of his grip, slamming his hand against Nightmare’s tendril, only to wince as the tentacle squeezed, clenching his teeth as he grimaced. The hand slapping him grabbed his tentacle, clenching his fist in an attempt to remain firm. Nightmare could feel a hint of hurt coming from Dream. Nightmare licked his lips. 

“Aren’t you going to say anything, you positive piece of shit?” Nightmare hissed, squeezing even tighter. He could’ve sworn he heard a popping noise come from Dream as yellow tears pricked his sockets. Nightmare glanced at Cross briefly and ordered, “Cross. Go and find _it_. Make sure it’s safe and Dream won’t find it.” With that, Cross nodded, moving out of the throne room, body tense with a calculating look, scouring the castle as soon as he stepped out of the throne room. 

Dream scowled at him. “Let me go,” he huffed. “What is it that you are hiding from me?” 

“First of all, I’m not letting you go. Second of all, why would I give you such information?” He questioned, flipping Dream upside down, the crown slipping off of the guardian’s head and landing on the floor, making loud clanking noises. Dream let out a surprised grunt, uncomfortable, an arm dangling from his grasp. He tried to start squirming again as Nightmare’s grip loosened, attempting to escape by pushing his arm against the tentacle, but it was still stiff enough to keep him in place. Nightmare laughed. 

  
  


He was so distracted with Dream that he didn’t realize a small negative presence was drawing close, peering into the throne room. 

Nightmare dangled Dream upside down, lifting him up and down teasingly. He could already see a yellow blush coat his face as he started to feel sick. The corruption let out an amused laugh, before he was interrupted by the monochrome skeleton. 

  
  


Nightmare looked up, and his eye immediately narrowed at the sight of Despair. The ex-guardian was fully clothed, peeking into the throne room, eyes widened with absolute shock at the scene before him. He must have immediately recognized Dream despite the new outfit. The crown Dream usually wore was on the floor. Maybe even the sound of it dropping against the hard floor alerted him. Whatever the reason, Despair was here now. 

Dream himself noticed Nightmare’s off-putting, surprised expression, twisting as best as he could to see where he was looking. His eyes widened slightly, pupils narrowing in his surprise. He held back a gasp, his throat closed up, tears forming into his sockets without his permission just at the mere sight of Despair. He knew who he was. In shock, he snapped his attention back on Nightmare, despite being upside down, his eyes blown wide. If the person behind him was his Nightmare, then who was _this_ in front of him? Who had he been fighting this entire time?!

* * *

Dream felt himself slipping from Nightmare’s gasp. Nightmare must not have processed it, his calculating eye elsewhere, staring at the floor, his eyebrow furrowed immensely. He dropped Dream and clutched his face. Dream fell to the ground, holding himself, looking up at Nightmare before looking back at Despair, eyes still wide, a slight sparkle in his eyes. Yet the tears still streamed down his face, still shaken up, still confused as to what was happening. 

He remembered the time Nightmare corrupted after feasting on the negative apples. Before his very eyes, he transformed, he became what was holding him just moments ago… right?? What happened? How? It was all so confusing to Dream. Regardless, he knew his mind couldn’t be playing tricks on him—after rubbing his sockets, he still saw Despair there, and would his mind really give him different clothes? 

When Dream looked up at Nightmare, he looked furious. Dream immediately sat up and stepped back, but he felt a tentacle under his feet, knocking him down. He grunted before he was being pulled by the leg, and then he was thrown into the opposite wall close to the throne. The wind was completely knocked out of him as he slid to the floor, gasping, holding his ribs as if he might explode. He cringed, looking back up wearily, watching as Nightmare stared him down, his eyelight a pinprick as he moved forward. 

Despite being against the wall, he stood up briskly and stepped closer to the throne. Nightmare lurched three tentacles at him. Dream ducked, clinging to the throne and glancing at the wall, seeing the tentacles splat against it. He looked back at Nightmare, furrowing his brows, Despair in his peripheral vision. Despair was on his hands and knees, holding himself, not even watching. Dream could tell he was freaking out and hyperventilating. Was it… a panic attack? He heard the word before from the villagers, but he wasn’t sure he was correct. Dream shook his head, focusing again, jumping over the throne as another tentacle attempted to reach him, scratching his own throne. Nightmare growled, snarling as he tried to reach Dream with another two tentacles. Dream ducked and rolled, grabbing his dropped staff and standing up again, reaching a defensive stance, bracing for another move from Nightmare. 

Nightmare glared at Dream from where he stood next to the throne. His eye flicked to the throne, teeth clenched out of anger. Dream could hear the quiet sounds of him grinding his teeth for a second. He snapped his focus back on Dream. 

Dream’s brows lowered, tensing still. “You were hiding my… my _Nightmare_ from me for so long,” Dream said. He wasn’t sure if he still wanted to call him his brother. Maybe they were… Nightmare probably still thought they were brothers… but Dream only called him that because Nightmare would. Dream dismissed these thoughts; he would trouble himself with labels later. Right now, facing the corruption was more important. What was he even supposed to call the corruption?? Nightmare? 

Nightmare clenched his fist, opening and closing them. The tentacles curled and flexed so aggressively, the most aggressive Dream has seen them. He shivered at the cold, absolutely resentful glare that bore into his own very soul. That’s what it felt like, anyway. Finally, the corruption spoke, snarling, “ _I’m_ Nightmare. He goes by Despair, now.” He stepped closer to Dream. Dream saw one specific tendril twist, and he braced for it to lurch at him. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TOUCH HIM,” Nightmare warned, sending the tentacle at Dream. Dream slapped it away with his staff. He glanced at Despair and back at Nightmare. 

For the first time in his life, he felt a new emotion. Anger. He could see the way Despair was being treated… There was a damn collar on his neck. Night—No, “Despair” must have thought that this whole time Dream was dead, based on his reaction being to have some type of panic attack, curled on the floor, hyperventilating as he rocked himself and sobbed. With this new-found anger, glorified frustration perhaps, he rushed forward and jumped, summoning a positive arrow in his hands, the thought of saving Despair in his mind a truly positive thought. He attempted to stab Nightmare through the chest with this arrow, but Nightmare stepped aside, just not fast enough. The arrow cut through his arm just below the shoulder, cutting off his arm and searing goop off of his side. As he cut through Nightmare he shouted in protest, “I could take much better care of him than you ever could!” Nightmare hissed in pain and in anger in response. Dream jumped back, aware that all four tentacles would be after him. He smacked some with his bow one-handed, and cut others with the arrow. 

“And that’s where you’re wrong… ‘brother,’” Nightmare drawled, hissing still as his arm slowly reformed. He held his own shoulder, stepping back, tentacles retreating as what was left of them twitched and curled slowly. “You’re going to pay for…” Nightmare hissed, but then he stopped, trailing off, his eye widening slightly as the malicious, toothy frown on his face faltered. Then, his head lowered slightly, his eyebrow lowering as his eye half-lidded, a wide grin spread across his face. Suddenly, Dream felt a wave of negativity move over him, pressing its aura and coating the room with it. 

Dream felt his hope flicker, but he shook his head, focusing. He needed to stay strong. His adamant expression remained on his face. He didn’t want to look back at Despair, but noises of his hyperventilating and sobbing had ceased, albeit Dream could hear leftover crying from him… Dream clenched his jaw, wanting so desperately to hug and comfort Despair, tell him everything would be OK and that he was here. In response to being called Nightmare’s brother, Dream murmured quietly, “Don’t even _call_ us brothers…” He wasn’t sure if Nightmare didn’t hear it, but Nightmare certainly didn’t respond if he did. 

Nightmare moved to Dream, or at least Dream thought he was. He stiffened, bracing. Nightmare simply walked past him, ambling forward, close to Dream, in between Despair and Dream. He should have seen that coming. He shouldn’t have let Nightmare do that. 

Nightmare was close to Despair, facing him, looking down at him. Dream unsummoned his staff, instead summoning his bow, setting up the arrow with shaky hands. Now was his chance. Shoot Nightmare while he’s turned away. 

Dream pulled back the arrow, his grip tightening on the bow, squinting his eye. It looked like Nightmare was quietly speaking to Despair, but Dream couldn’t hear what. Nightmare stood up, half-turning towards Dream. Dream hesitated. The corruption fully faced him again, taking a couple of steps forward. “Now, Dream…” He purred quietly, stopping when he was halfway between Dream and Despair again. “I think you’re right.” 

Dream blinked, letting his guard down. He tensed again, focusing his bow on Nightmare. “Move another step and I shoot.” 

“And risk killing your precious ‘Nightmare’?” Nightmare countered, lifting his chin up slightly with a condescending expression, grinning. 

Dream flinched. “What?” He tried not to show his surprise, tried to repress any feelings that revealed what he was thinking. Nightmare must have detected it anyway. 

Nightmare picked at his teeth with his pinky, letting his eyelight focus elsewhere. “Oh, yes… See, we’re connected,” he explained, drawing out his words. He focused his gaze on Dream again, lowering his head as he put his hands behind his back, leaning as he stepped towards Dream, walked beside him, tentacles cool and still as they moved behind him. “There’s no telling what could happen…” he whispered, “…if you killed me.” He grinned. “Do you want to find out? Perhaps Despair _might_ just survive…” 

Dream’s hands were shaking. He stepped away from Nightmare, pointing at his head with the bow and arrow, trying to focus, trying to push out these lies. They were lies. Dream knew it. All Nightmare did was trick and manipulate people. He was _lying_ , he had to be. 

Nightmare stopped moving forward, straightening his back again, smirking. “If you got him killed, it would be your fault, wouldn’t it? If you shot at me right now?” 

Dream winced, his gaze back at Despair, who was standing up now. His eye sockets were widened still, pupils narrowed. His gaze flicked from Dream to Nightmare as he clutched the wall. It looked like Despair was trying to speak, his mouth opening, but then briefly closing again, gulping. He longingly looked at Dream. Dream tore away his gaze, looking back at Nightmare, starting to be convinced it could be true. They had to be connected, anyways, it would only make sense… Maybe he wasn’t lying about that. 

“So.” Nightmare’s voice felt like a sheet of ice; cold and blunt. “Put your arrow away. I have a proposition…” 

Dream hesitated. He glanced at the floor. His gaze traveled back to Despair. There were giant tears in his sockets, his mouth open just a little, eyebrows pinched together and facing upward. Dream looked back at Nightmare before Despair began shaking his head, but it was too late, Dream had already looked away. Reluctantly, Dream lowered his bow and arrow. The arrow dissipated, leaving him with an empty bow, which he would resummon an arrow if need be… 

“Good.” Nightmare lifted his own chin up again, half-turning away from Dream and taking a few slow steps toward Despair. “I know you would take better care of him, right?” He asked. Dream saw the way his hands ran over each other behind his back. 

“Of course,” Dream answered automatically. “He’s… He’s my… brother. I would always take care of him…” Dream continued, trailing off. He didn’t want to admit to them being “brothers”, yes, they were close, yes, they were platonic, but it didn’t fit right with him. The way people had discussed what siblings were… It just didn’t work for him. They were _friends_. Friends who grew up together. Friends who always had each other’s backs. But… it’s what Despair would say. So if he said they were brothers, then they were brothers. It was still shocking to Dream… He always thought he was fighting against Despair this entire time, his love for him had died he thought, but in all actuality, his love for the former Nightmare hadn’t died—it was “asleep” almost. He could feel it regrowing. He glanced at Despair, standing there, stiff and hopeless, his eyes blown wide. Dream swore he would help him out of here in any way he could wordlessly. 

Nightmare stopped, standing in front of Despair. Despair looked up at him. Dream could feel Despair stiffened just the slightest from where he was standing. The corruption said nothing for a moment, unclasping his hands, putting a hand up to Despair’s cheek and caressing it, rubbing his thumb over his cheek. Dream at first felt shocked, seeing Despair not move away, not fighting it, but his soul dropped to his feet when he saw Despair lean into it, immediately slumping and calming down, eye sockets shutting lazily. Nightmare looked back at Dream, licking his lips, leaving Dream absolutely horrified with what he was seeing, mouth agape and his eye sockets blown wide instead of Despair’s. 

  
  


That collar around Despair’s neck. That was all Dream could think about. 

The collar wasn’t meant to just make noise and alert Nightmare where Despair was going. It was a _kink_ , a sick and twisted kink. 

This situation—this horrible, twisted situation—was much worse than what Dream initially anticipated. 

  
  


“No…” Dream muttered, stepping back, his bow unsummoning due to the rush of guilt that came over him. Nightmare’s pressing aura didn’t help. In fact, it seemed to make it worse. It felt like his soul was violated; being crushed. 

“Oh yes,” Nightmare purred, drawing out his voice, humming. 

Dream’s wide sockets watched as Nightmare coiled his tentacles around Despair. Despair didn’t move an inch, he just willingly let it happen. He lifted him off the ground, turning towards Dream again. A tentacle wrapped around his chest, keeping his arms bound, and another around his legs, the other two were patting his head and squirming over him. Despair bit his lip. 

Dream’s nonexistent throat felt dry. He felt sick. 

  
  


“Now, Dream,” Nightmare said, breaking the silence. His thin, wide grin across his face, a sinister yet pleased look across his face. Dream heard Despair whimper, making him flinch, his brows furrowing upward. He could only hope Nightmare’s plans were doable. His grin widened in the slightest. “We’re going to make a deal.” 

Dream gulped. He nodded, showing he was listening, prompting him to go on without speaking. He had to save Despair. He kept telling himself that. Anything for Despair. 

“If I let you have Despair,” he started, the tentacles squeezing some over Despair. Despair seemed used to it, not reacting, only looking away, a tendril creeping under his chin and rubbing close to his neck. Nightmare stared Dream down, eye narrowing as his eye lidded. (It was weird to Dream seeing the tentacles greet someone like that. Coiling around someone, and yet searching his body playfully… It was disgusting to him.) “You must take care of him.” 

Wasn’t that already obvious? 

Why did Nightmare care? Oh, right, the “connection” thing. He only kept Despair alive so he could stay alive… 

“Not only do you have to take care of him and protect him, which I have no doubt you won’t do, but I won’t give him to you unless you submit to me and no longer cause any disruptions,” Nightmare added. “No more getting in the way of me and my team, no more spreading positivity, no more stopping us from causing negativity—nothing. If I find out, Despair will suffer the consequences.” Nightmare grinned at that. 

Dream choked on a gasp. His eyes widened. His eyelights wavered. He looked at Despair. 

Despair started shouting. “No! No, Dream, don’t do this! Don’t listen to hi—” he shouted, he protested, but a tentacle shot over his mouth, silencing him. Despair tried to squirm his way, thrashing, but it was to no avail. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. He kept shouting, muffled by the tentacle, trying his hardest to shake his head. Nightmare grabbed the side of Despair’s skull, squeezing tight. Despair froze. Dream froze. Dream watched, shaking now. 

  
  


Was this a bad decision? Saying yes? 

Nightmare would spread chaos across the multiverse… So many people would be hurt, hope would die, and positivity would no longer last… Dream couldn’t agree to this. There had to be some other way. 

  
  


“If you say yes, you will have one safe place to go. Your little hideout AU. We will never touch that AU, never enter it,” Nightmare continued, seeing the look on Dream’s face. “In fact, you can go anywhere. We won’t attack you. You can even keep the last, shining golden apple,” Nightmare finished. 

“What??” Was he hearing that right? 

Nightmare shrugged. “I realized that… _complete_ domination isn’t as fun. It’s nice when there’s just a tiny bit of hope that you can crush and watch die,” Nightmare spat, chuckling. He looked back at Despair. “But anyways…” His grip became tighter around his skull. He saw Despair wince, squeezing his sockets shut, small lavender tears forming in his eyes, and yet he didn’t make an attempt to move out of Nightmare’s grasp. He completely surrendered to him. Nightmare’s eyelight flicked to Dream as he squeezed his skull. Despair started crying, shuddering as he did so. “Make your choice. Maybe I’ll even break his wrists again to feel more negativity… It is a rather delicious thing…” Nightmare purred, his grin sinister. 

  
  


“Fine!” Dream snapped. He inhaled shakily. He couldn’t watch Despair be hurt like that… Nightmare looked at him, letting go of Despair’s head. There was going to be a mark there, over his socket. “Fine,” Dream repeated, quieter this time, calmer. He bit his lip, moving forward. 

“It’s a deal, then?” Nightmare asked, humming. 

Dream’s eyelights flicked to Despair, stopping when he got to Nightmare. Despair was trying his hardest to shake his head, desperate muffled noises escaping him. Nightmare’s smile simply grew wider. Dream focused his attention back to Nightmare. He confirmed, “Yes.” 

His grin widened, showing more of his teeth. Wordlessly, he offered his hand to Dream, prompting him to shake it. “Go ahead, then. Shake on it.” 

  
  


Dream wasn’t sure if Despair had gone silent, or if he had been blocked out of his mind. All he knew was the hand was in front of him. He lifted up his hand automatically, but shied away, hesitating. He blinked, trying to focus. 

Don’t look at Despair. 

Save him. 

This was the only way to save him. He needed to get him out of here, and no one else would help him, he knew that. He had no one else. 

  
  


Dream snapped back to reality when he heard the tentacles squeezed so tightly around Despair. Despite the tentacle covering his mouth, he could hear Despair’s whimper of hurt. “I’m running out of patience, Dream,” he drawled slowly, eye laxly lidded. “Make your choice. Shake my hand, or Despair will have many broken bones and will suffer.” 

  
  


“Three.” 

Dream frantically flicked his gaze from the hand, to his face, back to Despair, searching for the right answer. The only answer he knew was the one in front of him: the hand. Shaking the hand seemed like the only way to get Despair out of this. 

The aura around them pressed into his soul. He bit his lip. 

“Two…” 

Dream gulped, his fist closing, his body shaking with a new anxiety. His eyebrows pinched together, looking away. He squeezed his eye sockets briefly. Shaking his head and opening them again, determined, grabbing Nightmare’s hand and shaking it before he could utter the last word. 

  
  


“Very good. We do have a deal, then,” Nightmare proclaimed, shaking Dream’s hand. He gripped it before letting go. 

Dream held his wrists apprehensively, scared out of his mind that something would happen to Despair. Nightmare would do something to hurt him one last time if he really wanted to, because Dream wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it. 

The tentacles immediately retracted, letting Despair drop. Despair gasped for air and coughed. He must have been under so much physical pressure. 

“Nightmare!” Dream cried by habit, falling to his knees and offering his hands to Despair. Despair turned his head away, holding himself. Dream flinched, thinking he was mad at him. 

“No, don’t touch me. I’m the one that got you into all this mess,” Despair snapped. 

“Nonsense-” Dream started, but he didn’t feel like finishing. He brought Despair into a hug, tightly holding him, careful not to hug too tight due to the situation. Despair was at first stiff, but eventually, he relaxed, hugging back, crying into Dream’s chest, clinging to Dream. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay-” Dream soothed, forgetting about the area they were both in. 

They both had a sudden reminder when Nightmare laughed, booming. They both winced, looking up. 

Nightmare signed some type of hand motion. Three skeletons from behind him came around the corner and stopped. A goopy-eyed skeleton, who he recognized as “Killer,” a maniacal skeleton, Dust, and the monochrome skeleton, Cross. Nightmare walked around the two on the floor, walking to the throne, sitting down. Loudly, he suggested, “Why don’t you two show these two the door?” Even Dream knew that wasn’t a suggestion. “I’m sure Cross has had enough action for today.” 

“No problem, boss,” Killer responded, picking up Despair, the collar’s bell ringing as he was lifted up. Despair reached out for Dream past Killer’s arms, mouth open and tears in his eyes. Dream held tight to his hand, before Dust picked him up and pulled the two apart. 

“None of that,” Dust snarled mockingly, laughing. Killer joined in the laughter, and so did Nightmare. The laughter echoed in Dream’s skull as they were pulled through the castle. 

Cross simply watched this happen, guilt twisting in his gut. He didn’t let it show. The people that would know about this growing guilt gnawing at him would be Nightmare and Dream, which Dream sensed, since they’re the only ones that can feel these things. 

Still feeling guilty, Cross looked away. 

  
  


Eventually, they were thrown out of the castle past the gate into the mud. It must have started raining, because now everything around them was wet. Did this AU even rain? It was certainly raining now. Once they landed, Dream looked back, eyes wide with golden tears. “You’re just going to leave us here?!?” Dream cried. His eyes focused on Killer, looking deep into his eye sockets, searching for a drop of empathy. But there was none to be found. 

Killer’s grin tightened, Dream could see. “Yes.” He turned away with Dust, walking back to the castle, where it was warm. Dust said something, Killer pulling up his hoodie over his head to shelter from the rain as they made their way back. 

  
  


Dream felt shattered. He realized the weight of this situation. He realized what decision he just made. 

_He was under the impression of Nightmare’s toxic aura._

Dream gulped, tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried. He bit his lips, trying to stop, trying to be positive. Deep down he knew that he couldn’t fix this. 

  
  


“Dream.” It was Despair’s raspy voice. 

Dream looked at him, flinching, rubbing his hand over his socket to clear off the tears. “Yes?” 

“This is all my fault,” he said. “If I hadn’t eaten those apples, if I hadn’t gotten scared, if I didn’t lash out to you, none of us would be here right now, we would all still be safe and happy and warm and-” 

Dream scooted closer, putting his hands over Despair’s, which were gripping his totally muddy pants now. “Shhhh… Nightmare, don’t tell yourself that,” Dream whispered. 

Despair winced at the name. Dream faltered, but kept going. Gulping, he continued, “Please, don’t blame yourself for what that _monster_ did. What he did to _you_. You were under the impression of that negativity, r-right?” His thumbs went over Despair’s hands, trembling. 

At that, Despair looked up at Dream, a curious expression. 

“I was pressured to make that deal. Stars above, I’m so sorry, I should have tried to find another way,” Dream confessed, shuddering as he bit back sobs. “Please forgive me, Night. I’m so sorry.” 

Despair hugged Dream. Dream was surprised by this, but he hugged him back, forgetting about the rain, forgetting about the mud. 

Muffled against his clothes, Despair replied, “No, Dream. _I’m_ sorry. You did nothing wrong. You were pressured by his aura, and—” 

“And you were, too, I’m sure of it,” Dream cut off. 

Brief silence. 

  
  


“… Let’s go home,” Dream said finally, realizing how cold he was, how soaked he was. Despair must have been the same way. 

Despair looked up. “Home?” He echoed. That sad look felt like a punch in Dream’s gut. He wanted to cheer him up, make him smile again. 

Dream tried his best to smile reassuringly. “Yeah. Home.” 

With those words, he hugged Despair again, close to him, his head over his shoulder. He didn’t want to let go. With the thought of Despair, it created enough positivity to teleport to Haventale, to his own bedroom; the only room he’s ever had. 

“We’re home now, Night.”


End file.
